There is one problem with sharing my story.  I have to keep telling the story even when it’s embarrassing.  The story must continue even when I look like a total ditz.  Alright, I will not keep you waiting longer to hear the continuing saga of my car.

Chase called not long after I wrote last night.  It was so good to talk with him.  He reassured me it wasn’t the transmission.  From there we were able to determine that we just needed to take the car to the dealership. Might as well fix everything at once and the dealership is the only place in town to be able to fix the speedometer.  We decided that going ahead and getting a tow truck would be the best way to get the car there.  I felt a million times better just having a plan of action that someone who has a clue was able to approve.  Cars leave me clueless.  Even knowing where to take one when somethings wrong makes my head spin.  This shop does this and the other does that, and the place that fixes this can’t fix that.  I want a one stop to fix it all shop.  Which I guess is what the dealership is, except that they cost more than everyone else.  Chase kept talking about what he thought the diagnosis would be.  And the word fuel kept being thrown around.  Fuel filter, fuel sensor, fuel blah blah blah (my mind just can’t seem to process all those technical car terms).  I had to ask, “Honey, is it possible the problem could be a lack of fuel?”  I’ll give my husband credit for not being the one to bring this up, although it may not have occurred to him as he would never allow the car to run out of gas.  All the sudden though it hit me, the fuel gage had stopped working once before, only moving when the car was near empty.  And it had been on 3/4’s of a tank for a while.  Knowing that the gauge had a problem once I made it a habit to fill up at least once a week no matter what the gauge said.  But over the past couple weeks my schedule hasn’t been quite normal.  I couldn’t remember the last time I filled up.

This morning I drove to the gas station.  The tank holds about 14 gallons, I put in 13.95.  I’d say I was out of gas.  So glad it hit me before I called the tow truck.  As humiliated as I am that I have to confess that I got all stressed out over something so easily fixed, I would have been beyond humiliated to receive that call from the dealership.  “Ma’am, you just needed gas.”  The car is still going to the dealership next week.  Especially as not only is the gas gauge added to the list of things that really don’t properly work, but the trip meter doesn’t work either.  I set it to 0 after filling up so that I could gauge how far I’d been.  After driving to base and back it’s still on 0.  I also noticed that the general mileage meter was stuck, meaning I’m probably over-due for an oil change.

Talking to Chase I also determined that there are no vehicles in the state of Alaska that are really what we need.  While some could do, there are still issues.  So I will work at being patient for a van, waiting for the right one to come along.  Trying to be grateful that I have a car, that runs as long as you put gas in it.

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